


Tabletops

by TheChichiSlaughterHouse



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Cheating, Incest, M/M, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-03
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2018-11-14 23:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11218854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChichiSlaughterHouse/pseuds/TheChichiSlaughterHouse
Summary: Set during the 2008 OVA where Vegeta's brother is introduced. Vegeta and Table go at it, even though they're brothers. TablexVegeta.





	Tabletops

**Author's Note:**

> Tabletops
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> Warnings: Incest, yaoi, TablexVegeta, heavily implied GokuxVegeta, slight GokuxTable if you squint, possibly highly OOC considering the whole FIVE SECONDS we got of Table’s personality and interactions with his brother, smut, fluff.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragonball/Z/GT, the movies or any of the merchandise licences. I’m just borrowing the characters for a little bit of profitless entertainment.
> 
> Rating: NC-17
> 
> I've spelt it Table because it's obvious that's what it's supposed to be. VegeTable, get it? (The title is also a pun based on this.)

After the party had slowly drawn to a close – the food had all been eaten, anyway – all attention had suddenly been on Table and his wife. The stares and questions which had been sated by food so quickly were now all bubbling to the surface in its absence, and it was obvious the two were becoming uncomfortable. As the questions had begun and Goku had gotten closer to Table, Vegeta had snapped; demanding that everyone shut the hell up or get out of his face that instant.  
  
With a pout, Goku had begrudgingly backed down, aided by his wife as she tugged on his arm, telling him it was time to go home. She had tired of the events the fastest since Roshi had gotten drunk, having to whip out her frying pan more times than anyone had ever seen. When he was thoroughly pummelled, she had gone to get Goku after Gohan requested to go and talk to Videl for a little longer. Goten had just given her puppy eyes and she had let him go with them to Capsule Corp to play with Trunks.  
  
The lingering gaze of Goku had annoyed the shit out of Vegeta. The way the other Saiyan was looking at his brother was as if he were a new toy that he was itching to play with, and the prince did not want to allow it. He had seen that look on the Earth-Saiyan’s face before, and _every time_ , something stupid had happened. At least, he himself felt it was stupid; Goku would probably not agree.  
  
After that, everyone else decided to go back to their homes; Bulma taking Gure to go and chat somewhere; giving the two brothers the space they needed to talk. Vegeta felt she only did so because she was interested in what technologies the other planet would have had, however. When they were finally alone, the elder prince went straight to his bedroom, thinking it the best place for privacy. The look on Table’s face suggested he had a lot to discuss, and after not seeing the little squirt for so many years, he didn’t feel he could say no.  
  
Standing awkwardly in the sparse room, the silence felt heavy to him. It was uncomfortable; and it was getting increasingly so as the seconds ticked by, Table staring at him wordlessly. He felt like he was being judged, and he didn’t like it; finding it become more unbearable as time went on.  
  
“What?!” Losing his cool, he just shouted, regretting it a moment later when he realised yet again just exactly who he was with. It wasn’t one of those stupid Earth idiots.  
  
“I thought you’d be taller.” Table said quietly, looking up at Vegeta calmly. His head was slightly tilted to the right as he gazed upon his elder brother’s features, the lack of a scouter making him a little unbalanced. It was evident from the action and how much Table had relied on it that his little brother had spent the entire time with it smacked on the side of his face. Like a brand. A mark that he was Frieza’s.  
  
“Y-You’re not so tall yourself!” Vegeta snapped, huffing and folding his arms across his chest in the way he always did, turning away from Table ever-so-slightly. He didn’t want to be reminded by this shrimp about his own height issues! If anything, Table was far too short to be part of the Royal family – in fact it was almost unbearable! He was glad that no one had dared to comment on it. He didn’t feel like blasting off people’s heads right now; the consequent bitching would not be worth it.  
  
“Why did you never come to get me, niisan?”  
  
Faltering, Vegeta found himself unable to speak. The hurt tone in his brother’s voice was almost painful to hear, and not in the usual ‘stop-being-so-weak’ way. It didn’t make him angry, nor did it embarrass him. He just felt ashamed. Ashamed and a little guilty. There was no real reason why he couldn’t have just gone back to get him after Frieza had been defeated. No reason at all, in fact.  
  
When Frieza was in power, it was a far different matter; he hadn’t wanted his only sibling to be subjected to the shit too. For the last two of the royal Saiyan line to be working for that lizard would have been a far larger mockery to their race. That’s why he kept him as far away as possible and didn’t mention him once. Nappa had kept silent as well, after some ‘persuasion’ on Vegeta’s side that mostly involved his fists and a healing tank for three days.  
  
Perhaps if he was a little more honest, he would have admitted it was more to do with not wanting his adoring brother to see him that way. He didn’t want his brother to see him as ‘Frieza’s little monkey’. But Vegeta was not that honest.  
  
“Didn’t occur to me.” He said gruffly, keeping his gaze firmly on anything that wasn’t his brother. He didn’t want to see the inevitable look of hurt on his face that his lie would have caused.  
  
“You’re lying. I know you are.” The tone was firm, but the hurt was quite clear in the way that the younger prince’s voice shook, making Vegeta feel pangs of guilt. Without even looking, the elder prince knew that Table would be shaking. The boy hadn’t changed at all. It was far too easy to make him cry; all it took was a little teasing from him and the younger prince would fall apart. The memories brought a small smirk to his lips. He’d never admit it, but he had missed Table more than anyone else. Yet he didn’t know what to do now that he was here; he couldn’t even look at him right now.  
  
However, the need to turn his head was taken away as Table grabbed his arm, flinging him across to his bed.  
  
“Table! What are you doing?!” Eyes widening, he tried to sit up; surprised the younger of the pair would even dare to do such a thing. As a child, Table had been so docile. The cause of his weak power level and the reason he was sent away by their father was that he would barely have hurt a fly! The change from then and now was almost astounding. Outside, when they had been under attack, all he had done was protect his wife and leave the rest to the Z fighters. It was difficult to comprehend what was going on.  
  
His attempt to get up was thwarted when his brother climbed on top of him; all tears and anger as his smaller hands gripped Vegeta’s wrists and forced them over his head. The sight took his breath away as the younger prince’s tail came into his range of vision, fluffed up and lashing dangerously behind him.  
  
“I thought of you all the time, niisan!” The shorter brother almost shouted; voice still trembling. “I missed you so much, and you just forgot me!”  
  
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Vegeta countered, trying to tug his hands out of the weaker grip, surprised at how difficult he was finding it. There was no way it should have been a problem at all; he could read Table’s maximum power level easily, and it was no match for his own. Yet he felt proud of him. His power had significantly increased since they had last seen each other, and he knew their father would have been proud too. It was around the same as his own power had been when he had lost to Frieza on Namek, maybe a little higher. Before he could make a comment about it, he saw Table lean forwards; warm lips pressing firmly against his own.  
  
They used to kiss as children; a harmless press of the lips in greeting or parting that had developed from watching the rare occasions their parents did it. At the time, neither of them had really understood what the kissing actually was, but no one had said anything about it since they were so young. It was fine at that age to be as affectionate as they liked. But now that they were far older, Vegeta found it uncomfortable, trying to pull back awkwardly. As Table had a wife, he was sure he knew the significance of it too. Despite his struggling, Vegeta did not feel threatened by the advances. Because it was his own flesh and blood; he felt no danger, just shock as he would never have imagined it happening.  
  
But no matter what he did, Table did not give up; just moving with him so their lips stayed pressed as long as possible. They finally broke apart when Vegeta twisted his head to the side, the younger prince not having expected it. As Table panted from the effort of holding him down, he eyed him angrily.  
  
“Stop it; we’re not children anymore! Let go of me!” After that, the other Saiyan bowed his head, a heavy silence lingering in the air as the seconds ticked by. And still he was held there, his anger growing with every breath he took. Yet he didn’t find himself resisting or breaking free to hit his assailant. If it were anyone else, he knew they would already be face down on the floor with his boot on their head. It was a miracle that Table hadn’t met that fate yet.  
  
“Niisan…” Voice barely audible, the younger prince looked up into Vegeta’s face. His eyes and cheeks were a little red from his earlier tears but he was no longer crying, which was a small relief. “Is it really not okay?” Eyes widening a little, Vegeta found himself lost for words again. When Table looked this pleading and upset, there was a part of him that just couldn’t resist; a part that wanted to protect him and make him feel better about everything. About being too weak to stay home, about the planet being destroyed and leaving him abandoned, about being _left there_ with no real reason…and about being lied to.  
  
It was a part of himself that the elder prince despised; an unnecessary weakness that would only ever be exploited should anyone find out. He wanted to stamp all over it until it was no more and laugh in triumph, but it was not so simple. He had spent decades without the other man by his side and had never learnt to block him out. Thousands of no-name alien children had cried and begged him for their lives, yet he had never felt the need to spare any of them. In fact, the cries and begging had just egged him on; causing him to enjoy decimating them all without a second thought. Yet this one Saiyan almost as old as him was impossible to ignore.  
  
Awkwardly he leaned up, hastily brushing his lips over his brother’s cheek so softly he almost wouldn’t have felt it. Lying back against the bed, he stared up at Table quietly, trying to keep all expression from his face. He didn’t know exactly what the younger prince was implying with his touches, though the way he was pinned down told him it may be more than innocent childish kisses.  
  
And – somehow – that didn’t bother him.  
  
Neither speaking another word, they leaned in, again kissing chastely. Soft gentle presses as they started to learn each other’s lips once more; noting the subtle changes from the memories that were now bubbling their way to the surface. Differences such as the texture of the delicate skin, the pressure put behind each one as they continued onward. But all too soon the small kisses stopped, Table looking down at his brother quietly; still silent yet questioning.  
  
Sliding his hands up his younger brother’s sides in response, Vegeta wondered if the planet Table had ended up growing on was the cause for his smaller figure. There was no way that he should have been so short otherwise, especially not for a man his age. Yet as Table’s hands started to stroke across his body, he decided not to dwell on it.  
  
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as the small gloved hands swept down over his hips, attempting to stay as calm as possible. One of the things he prided himself on the most was his self-control, developed by his many years of training, and he would be damned if anyone – even his brother – was going to break through it so easily!  
  
But closing his eyes didn’t seem to make it any easier at all. In fact, the longer his eyes were closed, the sharper his other senses seemed to become, until he could have sworn he could _smell_ the younger prince. And the arousal that seemed to be thick in the air, as if there were many men all aroused in one place. Eyes jerking open at the last thought, he almost jumped at the sight of Table’s tail right in front of his nose; going red at the expression on his brother’s face.  
  
There were so many emotions on that ever-young face that he struggled to figure out just what the younger man was thinking. There was sadness, desire and a barely-detectable hint of smugness all directed at him that just imprinted itself into his memory the longer he stared; almost unable to tear his gaze away again. Shivering, he felt the armour he was wearing start to be tugged upward, reaching down a gloved hand to force Table to stop, shaking his head weakly. He wanted to keep his armour on, just like always.  
  
Often he wondered if there would be a way to permanently mould the suit onto his skin so he would never have to take it off. So he could keep hold of his Saiyan heritage every day. That way, Bulma would never offer him some new hideous Earth clothing again, much less blackmail him into donning it. She had insisted on him wearing a set of clothing similar to what Gohan had worn that day to the party but he had violently refused. And was damn glad about it too; he would never have lived down being seen in such an outfit by Table, even if he had good reasons. To his delight, his brother had seemed to stick to the Saiyan armour too; not allowing himself to become domesticated by his wife either.  
  
Thankfully Table seemed to understand; immediately stopping and leaning back up, kissing him again firmly. His hands went back to roaming over his lower body, cupping at his crotch gently and giving it a squeeze. As he gasped, Table _finally_ slipped his tongue between his lips, giving a deeper kiss that Vegeta greatly appreciated.   
  
Allowing himself to get lost in the moment, he was surprised when he felt his bed sheets against his face and his pants halfway down his thighs, not knowing when any of it had happened. His ear and chin throbbed slightly, possibly caused by the small bites he recalled receiving shortly after that kiss. His brother’s mouth was now set to licking at his balls, causing him to groan in pleasure and hiss as it trailed its way upward. His bare hands gripped at the sheets – when had his gloves disappeared? – as he jerked his way forwards, wanting to get away from it. But yet again, Table was persistent, and the tongue was back on him within a second, licking slowly over his perineum in long motions.  
  
“A-Ahh…” As fingers wrapped around his raging erection, all he could do was make noises of enjoyment, shuddering when fingertips traced over the scar he had gained from losing his tail. Allowing Table his curiosity, he gritted his teeth, disliking every second the scar was touched. It reminded him all too clearly of the fact it was gone; the younger prince’s tail seeming to taunt him just by existing. However, it quickly became unbearable for him, causing him to snap angrily yet again. “Hurry up, dammit!”  
  
A moment later, the fingers had been removed, settling around his hip instead, the hand on his cock still moving lazily. Cursing under his breath, he wondered if he was going to have to tell him to hurry up every time he slowed down, not liking the thought. He was already painfully aroused as it was, and he was hoping to have an orgasm within the next ten minutes at most. If Table was going to play with every inch of his skin, he felt they would be there all night, or worse – found by their wives half way through.  
  
“Niisan…” Voice low, he could tell Table found it difficult to play about as well, obviously wanting to be inside him already, but not wanting to hurt him. It was times like these that he violently wished for his tail back, if only so that he could let the younger prince know he was more than ready. Suddenly the hand on his member had disappeared, regaining its grip on his ass soon after. Eyes widening slightly in realisation, he tensed when the other man’s tongue licked across his entrance, unable to help a shiver. He never would have thought that his brother would do this to him. Even as Table had slowly crept up from his balls, he had expected him to lick two fingers or ask for some sort of lubricant like Ka--  
  
“T-There’s lubricant…in the top drawer…” Vegeta managed to gasp, wanting to bury his face deep into the sheets for even admitting he owned any. It wasn’t like he had it there for times like this, or anything; it was just there in case he needed it for masturbation… Not that he masturbated often; if he ever wanted to have sex there were always willing participants, but occasionally he preferred to be alone. Sometimes it was just nice to work out the day’s stresses without another person bitching about wanting to cum. However, Table did not stop; teasing him open little by little and thrusting his tongue inside, making him jerk forward again in shock. “N-No…” At this, the younger prince pulled back, the grip on his hips becoming gentler.  
  
“Doesn’t it feel good?” The worried tone caused him to sigh, and he turned his head to the side. This sort of thing was why he shouldn’t have let it get this far. “Niisan, do you dislike it?”  
  
“Of course I don’t!” He snapped, unable – and unwilling – to control his temper. “I just want to get this over with!” Shaking free of the grip, he opened his top drawer and pulled out the lube, turning onto his back to look up at Table moodily. The man had _no_ sense of pace at all! He was in no way a delicate virgin who needed to be coddled, and he was tired of putting up with the patronising touches as if he hadn’t done such a thing before. Opening the lid, he squirted some onto the palm of his hand, allowing it to warm up before he reached down, carefully grasping Table’s erection.  
  
“A-Ah! Niisaaaan…” Gripping his thighs, the younger prince whined, his hips moving weakly against his hand, causing him to shudder in desire. Reaching around with his other hand, he lightly grasped Table’s tail, petting it teasingly as he stroked him, finding the reaction adorable. Rubbing the fur deftly between his two fingers, he leaned forward to lick at Table’s cheek, chuckling softly in amusement.   
  
Moments later, he was surprised when he felt Table grip his wrist tightly, his brother looking up at him in utter determination as he forced him to loosen his grip on his cock. He blinked as the tail slipped out of his hold too and wrapped around his ankle, gaze flicking up as the younger prince inched closer to him. Giving him a firm stare, Table pressed a hand firmly to his chest, easing him back down slowly. Sensing that he was finally getting serious; Vegeta did not resist, quite content to lie back now and let him do as he pleased for now.  
  
But only if he really _was_ serious.  
  
If Table went back to that ‘easing him into it’ crap, he swore he was going to kick the shit out of him. Just to vent a bit of his frustration.  
  
Luckily the younger prince _finally_ seemed to get a grip on the concept of pace, moving over him in the way that Ka-- _that he liked_. Feeling the head of his brother’s cock at his entrance he sighed and tilted his head back slightly, parting his legs to accommodate him. When Table didn’t move, he went red, realising he was giving him too much room and moving his legs so they gently gripped his hips instead. He almost swore as he figured out how much his movements were giving away, feeling more relieved than ever when his brother didn’t seem to pick up on it.  
  
Vegeta didn’t have time to brood on it as Table thrust forward, slowly but firmly pushing into his heat. He bit his lip hard at the intrusion, not having expected to be filled all at once, but he didn’t want it to be any other way, his cock throbbing the deeper his brother went. Trembling when the other prince was fully sheathed, he instinctively reached up to wrap his arms around his neck, correcting his aim hurriedly. The moment his hands touched Table’s back, he felt lips press against his, opening his mouth eagerly.  
  
As they kissed, the other Saiyan didn’t move an inch, causing his impatience to flare up all over again. Growling softly in his throat, he wondered if he was going to have to kick his ass after all, feeling disappointed and angry. However, Table suddenly began to move; rocking deeply into him so hard he could barely breathe. Vegeta jerked his head back from the kiss in shock, gasping for air as he felt eyes trace over his face and neck, shuddering in pleasure. It was almost unbearable to be fucked like this after the timid touches earlier; despite it being exactly what he had wanted.  
  
But there was no way he was going to complain now. The stimulation his body had desired for what felt like hours was here, and he would be damned if he was going to give it up for anything. Legs squeezing Table’s hips tightly, he began to rock his own hips back, gasping and trying to pull him closer, agitated that he had to lean up to bring their faces close. To be honest, he felt there were a lot of things about his brother that were annoying; but at that moment, none of it mattered anymore, as long as he could have more of the sensation between his legs. As long as Table kept fucking him like this, he could have been the most irritating person in the world and Vegeta wouldn’t have given a damn.  
  
“F-Fuck…more…!” He gasped, clinging tightly as his brother moved faster, using almost all of his strength to fuck him into the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Vegeta saw Table’s tail fluff up, its scent spreading around them thickly. Licking his lips, he moved a hand from around his brother’s neck, reaching to soothe down the fur, hearing a growl as his hand touched the wonderfully soft fur. The touch did not last long as his arms were grabbed and to his sides, Table’s eyes seeming to glint at him in warning.  
  
Eyes widening, Vegeta was surprised at how much of a cheeky bastard the shorter man actually was, wanting to pull free of the grip and show him who was boss. However, as he felt his orgasm start to build faster, he decided it was a minor offence, and that he didn’t care right now. He could always shout at the shrimp once the afterglow had faded if he really felt the need. But with the mood he was in right now, he was even willing to forgive any kiss marks or hickeys that might get left behind. Any bitching later on would be worth it.  
  
He tensed as he came; all his muscles seeming to seize up at the exact same second, pulling his brother in as deeply as possible. He clenched his fists as his thighs gripped Table’s hips hard, bringing him in closely. Hearing a gasp of ‘niisan’, he felt Table reach his own orgasm, closing his eyes as the younger prince pressed his sweaty face against his breastplate. Taking a deep breath, he realised his hands had been let free, reaching up to allow them to run through his younger brother’s hair. The silence that lingered in the air was pleasant, and he felt no need to break it with idle banter or stupid compliments, preferring to just enjoy the moment.  
  
When Table didn’t say a word either, he felt pleased. Unlike an idiot whose name he wasn’t going to mention, his brother was a preferable bed companion, at least after the deed was done, anyway. If nothing, the younger prince understood the need for silence, and his desire to keep his armour on, which was more than the _idiot_ did.  
  
However, as the minutes passed by, Vegeta realised that Table wasn’t being quiet. At least, not for the reason he had assumed. Glancing down, he spied the wetness on his chest, looking away quickly after. Continuing to stroke through the other’s hair he kept quiet, not wanting to bring it up and embarrass him. He wanted to give him time to calm down again, deciding to wait a few more minutes before mentioning it, just in case Table hadn’t wanted him to see. Yet the time came and went and his brother was still crying; making small sobbing noises that Vegeta had tried hard to ignore but just couldn’t anymore.  
  
“What is it?” He said softly, trying to keep all the exasperation out of his voice as he knew it wouldn’t be helpful. The last thing he wanted was to make the younger prince cry more – he really desired a hot shower right now. Stubbornly, his brother went silent and turned his face away, pretending he hadn’t been crying at all. With a sigh he let it slide, releasing Table’s hair and starting to sit up. “If it’s nothing, I want to get clean.” A moment or two of silence passed before Table showed any sign of reply, his voice sounding a little thicker than it had earlier.  
  
“…Can I get in too?” Sighing loudly to make sure his brother heard, Vegeta ran a hand through his own hair.  
  
“I suppose.”  
  
After a hot and pleasant shower, the two got dressed in silence. Whatever had been upsetting the younger man before certainly wasn’t affecting him now, leaving him all smiles and lightness as he grinned at Vegeta. Shaking his head at the oddly-familiar behaviour, Vegeta opened his bedroom door and watched in mild surprise as Table shot out ahead of him, waving at him as he ran through the corridor. Sighing again, he ran a hand through his hair again, closing the door behind himself as he made his way to the ki of Bulma and Gure, who had seemed to stick together closely the entire time as well.  
  
He was unsurprised when his brother pulled his wife close and embraced her, talking about heading back home. Bulma looked between the two of them quietly, not quite sure what was going on, but shooting Vegeta a dirty look as if it were his fault anyway. And for all he knew, it was. Maybe if he hadn’t let his brother have his way, they would have stayed longer, then again he wasn’t sure about that. When Table had decided to ‘attack’ him, the fact they were leaving had practically been set in stone. If he’d stayed after that, things would have just been awkward.  
  
Besides, he had a planet of his own to go back to. Why would he have stayed? There was nothing particularly special about this mudball; in fact, the damned planet was pretty mediocre in terms of everything. Certainly there was nothing that would keep him here. The only things different about this planet were the two full-blood Saiyans living on it, and of course, the half-breed children. Back on whatever planet their father had sent him to, Table most likely had a home and a lifestyle he enjoyed. If nothing, Gure’s parents or kin would be there too, and he was unlikely to just take her and never look back.  
  
It wasn’t like the shrimp couldn’t visit whenever he liked in any case.  
  
The farewell was as quiet and brief as the reintroduction had been, and before Vegeta knew it, he had seen the two pods leave their atmosphere already. After that, there was no reason to hang about in the garden, despite the questions Bulma was asking him, mostly about why he’d never talked about his brother before. All he replied was that it was none of her business, and chuckled softly to himself when she got angry and stormed into the building before him.  
  
Alone, he took one fleeting last look up at the sky. It hadn’t changed a bit since the previous day, showing no signs of anything out of the ordinary occurring, and he decided he liked it that way. Still chuckling, he turned on his heel and made his way back into what had become his home, contemplating whether he felt like another round of training or not.


End file.
